Pat Dollard

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Previous “Deep Thoughts”

8:18 A.M.

Can you contain your excitement that the DNC is here?

9:07 A.M.

Dollard Nation Video Grab Bag courtesy Jonny Pardner

10:36 A.M.

I’m heading out of the country tomorrow, unembedded, to cover some key things on a very big key issue for awhile. Will still be reporting from here, and will post in the usual PST to avoid confusion. There’s something I need to get at the bottom of, and it may take me elsewhere, The YA release is movng of its own accord, and publicity can be handled from overseas.

12:39 P.M.

My travels are, uh, Kosher. Let’s see if the info I get on a strike on Iran is plausble. There are benefits to having dual Israeli/U.S. Citizenship.

4:36 P.M.

Don’t miss tonight’s Special Convention episode of “The Jihadi Killer Hour”.

2:20 A.M. August 26

Changing Planes on my flight out of the country. Used to hate layovers, now I love them, because the wi-fi conquest means every layover is an opportunity to bring the site the attention it needs. A layover is like my garage work bench, my sanctuary from a spouse. It is my time, which is actually owned by my passion for my work.

Had one of the best real experiences of real love I’ve ever had tonight. Like as i lived it, I remembered it was as real and powerful as I remembered it, but for years have wondered it it ever really was that, or was just an illusion a civilian needs to believe in. The evil in us all has given me quite the jaundiced eye and the lightning fast trigger finger, for any woman. But there, adorned with all it’s human ugliness, frailness, self-centeredness, danger, evil and untrustworthiness, was love, right on top of me and filling my soul as much as love could fill it, despite the ugly truth of all the ugliness that comes with it, that comes with any human being. And despite every bit of that, it was still the most beautiful thing people could create, and it made for the best that two people could be. So it seemed to me. I embraced and danced with love tonight, lost to God, the devil playing violin in the band, chattering in our heads, but only there as he always has to be, but this time, one of those good times, when he was but a bit player in the whole encounter, in us, when the better angels of our nature, and God himself, triumphed to make the experience of love between a man and woman, both very real and all it could be. And then I left. And it sits here with me. In a dark and uncaring aiport gate, a symbol of empty, heartless business, but a place unable in its uncaring jagged unliving plasticity, to wipe away the truth and memories and hope of every human spirit that knows what waits at the end of every plane ride that frees us all from the temporary isolation of these pergatories to the heavens. I can wait, I can endure, no problem. Nothing anymore, is too much of a request of me.

5:53 P.M.

The beagle has landed. I have oxygen, elctricity, wireless internet. Except for a firearm at hand (will have a couple soon) I have everything I need. Food and water nearby. It’s funny, nice night, but when I slept I could only think about killing. Every day that goes by I think about killing someone. Not like a compulsion to act, or do. Not even necessarily real people. It’s not like fantasizing per se, or ideation. It’s more like mental gymnastics. Keeping fit. If I knew for sure I was never going back to war, it’d all slide to the side a lot more. But I get nervous, amped, focused and full of a desire to be keen, fit and ready. So I’ll glide through normalcy, and see it as not, and assess everything I would do. I’ve never walked a hallway or turned a corner or exited a portal like I used to. Now I’m always considering a threat. I remember getting back to Kuwait the second time. I stayed inside, because I was not comfortable on the streets, alleys here, alleys there, shadows behind pillars, angry cars full of and surrounded by angry people who hated more about me and my God than they were going to empathize with anytime soon. The hotel was comfortable. It had a bed. Hadn’t had a bed in awhile. It had food whenever I wanted it. Cooked once. It had a serenity that wasn’t always guarded by weapons and killers, though sometimes it did. But I had stopped worrying about mortars and rockets for the first time, there in Kuwait. Last time I had ice cream, I had to concern myself with dying, debate an escape with the sergeants and Lt’s i was with, I scanned a row of fridges on the chow hall floor because there was a gap runnng down the middle of each back-to-back row, and I wondered if being in that gap might be enough to keep me alive. My luck a mortar would come right down into the center of the aisle of salvation. A black Seargent Major came upon our table, and yelling a good three times louder than the siren he screamed at the LT’s to get in’ nervous and running double time out the exits along with the thousand other Marines. No one budged, except for a flinch or a half rise. Sergeant Major or not, he was yelling at mostly Lieutenants and they really didn’t like it. The sirens and the boots just kept getting louder. The stares at the Sergeant Major pushed him away like a strong wind, but he pretended to just float to the next task. Right then it seemed certain not to matter what I did. We had some cover in this chow cavern, why was everyone dashing out into the open to run the 100 meters or more to a bunker with only two of four sides. I got up, and headed to the ice cream. I wanted some of that liquidy strawberry to put on top. But I never did stop wondering if something was gonna come in and me up, maybe just a liitle, maybe a lot. I thought of the beautiful female translater who last her face in the chow hall in the
Triangle of Death. Christ. Every place in Iraq had a name that shook you. The explosions started outside, and the sergeant Major really began to yell. I was calm and I was scared, Iraq scared where you function almost entirely normally and in a million years no one could tell you were scared. I was tired of being hunted. But i wanted to come back; see I was on the way, just a few more days here. But all i really wanted was a break. You have to be either wounded or crazy to just let it go, like you don’t care, like it’s all just down to other people. Even if it should be. It just doesn’t feel that way, except in those rare moments where you’re so pissed you’ll kill anything in front of you. “Fuck it all” can come to mind when you’re feeling like that.

6:35 P.M.

Yo, I just discovered this Blog Talk Radio Heading Right Poll. You can go here and vote for your favorite show, your favorite personality, and the show you think is most informative. Believe it or not, out of up to 40 shows in a couple of categories, we’re in about the top 5, and we only beens around a few months. And I’m number the 7 most popular personality, so obviously most people started voting after drinking, PLUS, PEOPLE LOVE THAT DIRTY LANGUAGE ( to parahrase George Thorogood. What da ya mean you don’t know what I’m talking about? He did a load, maybe a small load, but still a load, of great songs ( I Drink Alone – One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer and I Love That Dirty Water, L.A. You’re My Home. I think he was an alcoholc or at least played one on vinyl) Anyway, if you’re drunk enough, you should go here. like right here, to cast your vote for the awards, and DO NOT, DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT vote for what you actually believe to be true and correct. Fuck that, you know what I’m sayin? Just vote Jhadikiller and Pat Dollard. DO NOT VOTE YOUR CONSCIENCE, PLEASE! Awful, you say?
Nay, nay, nay say I. Think of how awful it would be for an old familiar name to win, and worse, think of how awful it would be if our fellow and chick ship shrank. Put your weenie in the sink a minute, turn on the tap. Do you REALLY want that to happen to our “I think I can, I think I can” show? And seriously, I think we shake up in an unusual way. Maybe it’ll be good for people to get turned on to it. Maybe not. Anyway, of course, I’m only kidding when I say don’t vote for what you believe. But I still want ya to vote for us! Thanks to the whole team. Oh yeah, Welsh is out on maneuvers again till next week. He asked me to send his best.